<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Ghost by Eternally_Exhausted</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23207410">Ghost</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternally_Exhausted/pseuds/Eternally_Exhausted'>Eternally_Exhausted</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The LEGO Movie (2014)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 09:00:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,503</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23207410</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternally_Exhausted/pseuds/Eternally_Exhausted</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It started out small. He would leave his desk for a moment, and come back to find a pen tilted the wrong way. His coffee mug moved two centimeters to the right. One of his desk toys swaying. Little things that could easily be explained away.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It started out small. He would leave his desk for a moment, and come back to find a pen tilted the wrong way. His coffee mug moved two centimeters to the right. One of his desk toys swaying. Little things that could easily be explained away as him jostling his desk as he got up (though he never could seem to recall bumping it). It went on for about a month, then stopped. It prompted little more than a sigh of relief, and then it was business as usual again (ha).</p><p>A couple weeks later, one of his framed degrees got knocked off the wall.</p><p>He hadn’t been anywhere near it. There hadn’t even been a tremor. Startled, and just a little bit spooked, he made his way over to investigate it. The glass was cracked, but the paper was undamaged. He removed it from the broken frame and set it in a drawer until he got a new frame for it. No big deal. The Tower had been through a lot recently; the nail probably just came out of the wall.</p><p>…It hadn’t.</p><p>A week after that, several more frames were knocked from the wall. He peered around his monitor, wide-eyed and more than a little creeped out. “There’s no such thing as ghosts,” he muttered to himself as he gripped the edge of his desk until his knuckles turned white.</p><p>Something glass shattered in the relic hall.</p><p>“V- Vitruvius?! Is that you?!” he barked. Or tried to, at least. He winced at how his voice cracked. “I don’t find your idea of a prank very amusing!”</p><p>No answer. Of course there was no answer, because <em>there was no such thing as ghosts</em>.</p><p>He snorted to himself. Of course. It was just a case of an overactive imagination. There <em>had</em> to be a rational explanation. Maybe there was just high winds rocking the Tower. He had gotten quite used to the swaying motion, after so long. Maybe one of the robots had gotten a little careless about dusting. That was it. That was all. Drawing in a deep, shuddering breath, he got back to work.</p><p>Another several weeks passed without incident. That seemed to be the end of the odd happenings, until-</p><p>He was unable to stop the scream that tore from his throat. He gripped the door handle tightly, locking his knees so his legs didn’t give out. He could have sworn he’d seen someone standing in his office… But the room was empty.</p><p>He couldn’t convince his pounding heart to calm back down. His stomach churned, tears prickled at his eyes.</p><p>That… hadn’t been Vitruvius. The brief glimpse he’d gotten of the figure was… tall.</p><p>Black.</p><p>He fled his office.</p><p>When he finally calmed down and returned several hours later, it was with one of his securitrons in tow… and to find his office ransacked. The robot was immediately on high alert, scanning the room for possible intruders. He whimpered, taking in the state of his office. There was a pile of glass and shredded papers on the floor (and he had a sickening feeling he knew what those papers had once been), pens and pencils scattered everywhere, his favorite mug shattered. From the door, his desktop seemed untouched. Shaking, he approached his desk, slowly rounding it to see whether the monitor was still working.</p><p>The computer was unharmed. He breathed a sigh of relief.</p><p>“Sir-my-scans-detect-no-life-forms,” the securitron reported.</p><p>“Good,” he croaked. “No- no other anomalies?”</p><p>“No-sir.” Business nodded, turning his attention to the mess on the floor. He sorted through the pile of paper and glass, noting that the ripped-up documents were, in fact, his highly prized degrees and diplomas, just as he’d feared.</p><p>“Even so I want- I want two of you on duty at all times, keep an eye on my office and the relics. If <em>anything</em> seems out of the ordinary, it’s to be recorded and reported to me either immediately, or first thing in the morning.”</p><p>“Yes-sir.”</p><p>Vitruvius and his pranks, he could deal with. A vengeful poltergeist, on the other hand… He briefly entertained the idea of calling Bad Cop in to deal with it. The securitron took up guard by the door, and he shakily made his way to his chair, settling down into it. Would it communicate, if he spoke? It took him a few tries to get the words out.</p><p>“…Good Cop? Is that you?”</p><p>The air felt still, stifling, and charged. <em>Something</em> was there.</p><p>The desktop chugged, the monitor flickering as the word processor started up. He was paralyzed with fear- he hadn’t touched a thing.</p><p>
  <em>click. click. click.</em>
</p><p>yes</p><p>“Oh god,” he whimpered, tears of terror falling down his cheeks. “I’m s- <em>I’m sorry</em>-”</p><p>only sry bc yr scrd</p><p>“No! I-” There was a rumbling sound, and he could feel the floor trembling beneath him. The robot looked around in alarm as shards of glass and broken pieces of frames began to swirl around the office.</p><p>ONLY SRY BC YR SCRD</p><p>“<em>STOP!</em>” he screamed as a piece of glass came a little too close to his skin for comfort. “Yes I’m <em>terrified</em> right now but that’s not why I’m sorry!”</p><p>TELL ME</p><p>“I’m sorry because what I did was <em>wrong!</em> I’m sorry because I hurt you and I hurt Bad Cop and now you’re <em>stuck</em> here! And you can’t get away from me…” He clenched his eyes shut as the whirling debris came even closer, hunching his shoulders and curling in on himself. “And I <em>know</em> how miserable that is cause <em>I</em> can’t stand to be around me either… And you don’t deserve that…”</p><p>There was a tremendous crashing sound all around him. He waited for a few seconds, then dared to take a peek. There was no more tornado of glass shards and wooden stakes ready to impale him. The securitron was no longer by the door, instead cautiously approaching him, as if to check on him.</p><p>“So you <em>can</em> feel remorse.”</p><p>He sucked in a sharp breath. That voice…</p><p>“It was Emmet, wasn’t it?” He could <em>hear</em> the smile in that voice. “I had a feeling, if anyone could reach you, it was him.”</p><p>“It… was.” He drew in a shuddering breath. “I- I really am-”</p><p>“Shh,” Good Cop soothed. “I believe you.”</p><p>He sagged in relief. “Are… you… still going to stick around…?”</p><p>“I don’t think so. I’ve got somebody I need to say goodbye to first, but. I think I can cross over now.”</p><p>“…Could you-” He paused, then shook his head. “Never mind. I’ll just have to live with it.”</p><p>“I’ll tell him. Good luck, Sir.”</p><p>“…You too.” A beat, and the heaviness in the air was gone. He could breathe easy again.</p><p>“Sir-are-you-alright?” He jolted at the abrupt change of voice.</p><p>“Y- yeah. I think so. I will be.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He glanced back up into the mirror to see a face that wasn’t his. He blinked slowly, then leaned down to spit out his mouthful of toothpaste, taking his time rinsing his toothbrush and his mouth. “Finally cracked,” he muttered as he toweled his face dry again.</p><p><em>“You’re not cracked, B,”</em> a painfully familiar voice answered. <em>“I’m here.”</em></p><p>“No you’re not!” Bad Cop snarled. “I lost you <em>months</em> ago! Not a peep since then! Why now?!”</p><p>
  <em>“I was stuck until recently. In the Tower.”</em>
</p><p>“…The Tower…? Why <em>there?</em>”</p><p><em>“Partially because of how angry and hurt I was,”</em> Good Cop admitted. <em>“But I think mostly because of Business’ guilt. I couldn’t say for sure, but I think he’s been dwelling quite a bit on how badly he wanted to able to tell me he was sorry. After he said it, after I realized he </em>meant<em> it… It felt like whatever was holding me there was suddenly gone.”</em></p><p>“…He really did mean it?” Good Cop nodded. “And you came here soon as you could.”</p><p>Good Cop managed a smile, but it was quick to fall away. <em>“I came to say goodbye.”</em></p><p>“But you’re <em>here!</em>” Bad Cop protested. “You don’t <em>have</em> to go anywhere else!”</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t belong here anymore B, you know that.”</em>
</p><p>“Don’t go,” he pleaded, pressing a hand to the mirror. Good Cop gave him a sad look, mimicking the gesture.</p><p><em>“It’s gonna be okay, B. </em>You’re<em> gonna be okay. You’ve got others to look after you now, you don’t need me anymore.”</em></p><p>“I’m always going to need my brother.”</p><p>
  <em>“Please don’t make this any more difficult than it already is.”</em>
</p><p>Bad Cop nodded at the gentle chiding, swallowing past the lump in his throat as he let his hand fall away. “Love you, G.”</p><p><em>“Love you too, B. Always.”</em> He blinked away the tears, and found himself staring at his own reflection again.</p><p>(Benny arrived some time later- he wasn’t sure how long- to find him still sitting on the bathroom floor, face buried in his arms. The astronaut said nothing, simply sat beside him and wound his arms around him, holding him in silence until he felt like he could move again.)</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>